


Instructions

by tiny_trashcan



Series: Chicago Teeth spinoffs and shorts [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Credence Barebone, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Original Percival Graves, Bottom Original Percival Graves, Bottoming from the Top, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, not that Perce is always a "bottom", there is plot but this is a smut excerpt, what's with these gender role assumptions in my queer fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 13:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16833130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_trashcan/pseuds/tiny_trashcan
Summary: Some fluffy gradence smut in which Percival gives Credence instructions on how to top him for the first time. Percival is beta, and Credence is alpha and also Not Prepared. This ficlet occurs as an outtake scene within the same universe as my ongoing modern magic AU fic, Chicago Teeth.





	Instructions

Perce hasn’t slept with anyone properly for a while since he was first interested in Creeds, and certainly not since they started dating, so he cheerfully warns Creeds to be patient. Creeds has never done this before at all, innocent enough he’s never even fingered himself. He tells Percival this fact in that stubborn way he has, determinedly speaking through the shame his past tries to heap on him, looking earnest and serious from under his long bangs. Percival knows he’s really in trouble because he’s struck dumb by Credence’s personality, his bravery, as much as his attractive face.

That said, he most certainly does appreciate Credence’s face, and the rest of his body as well. When he asks, Perce is more than happy to give instructions on how Creeds can take him. He’s put Creeds on his back and kneels astride Creeds’s waist. They’re already completely, gloriously naked; after months of intimacy Credence still hasn’t gotten over his wide-eyed admiration of Percival’s body, and his attention feels as good as a hot mouth on Perce’s skin. He sways against Creeds’s fingers, which are tentative but rapidly growing more assured.

(Start with one finger and do circles. Harder than that. Yes, that’s good. Push in a bit and keep doing circles. Mmm. Keep doing that.)

They continue until Creeds has three fingers slowly curling and uncurling inside Percival, slippery from artificial slick. Creeds had never heard of such a thing and Perce had laughed at that, not mocking but low and delighted. Now he sinks down slowly on Credence’s cock, telling him to move just a little. He praises him and thanks him for being patient, says how much he likes having Credence’s hands on him. As for Creeds, he’s practically stricken by the immediacy of the feeling. A person’s internal body temperature is higher than the temperature of their skin. Knowing that in his head did not prepare Creeds for the damp heat of Percival’s body around him. Perce smells like ozone, the remnants of dueling practice clinging to his skin beyond what a shower can wash off, and luxurious arousal, strong and spicy.

Percival rocks up and down, side to side, his calves brushing back and forth between touching and not touching Creeds’s bare flanks. He hums, a long, deep appreciative sound. Creeds would swear he can feel it through Percival’s body where they’re attached. Percival is smiling. He has his eyes half closed, his short hair mussed entirely beyond fixing, his hands over Credence’s where Creeds holds Percival’s thighs. He can feel Percival’s muscles flexing slightly for each slight change in angle.

Creeds doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to this, to having sex with another whole real person. His own hands are one thing, just two points of contact. There’s so much of Percival, so much skin on Credence’s, so much to see and feel. He throbs with it, with each flickering of tense and relax of Percival’s hole around his cock, the fleeting touch of tailbone on his balls. He thrusts up shallowly, every move jerky with unsteady control. How in god’s name did Percival ever learn to keep his own movements lithe and constant? And Percival looks as drunk as Creeds feels, face flushed, cock heavy and dripping. Percival looks marvelous.

(Put your hand on me. There, like that.)

Perce guides one of Credence’s hands up to the base of his cock. He strokes himself in rhythm with his rolling hips, using Credence’s hand. (Hm, keep doing that. Hold your hips still a second.) Creeds does as he’s told. Percival removes his guiding hand while Creeds continues to stroke him. Perce doesn’t stop rocking up and down when Creeds goes still. He takes a deep breath and that, oh, that Creeds can feel, how Percival’s insides relax even farther around him. He thought Percival’s movements were fluid before? And he moves faster now, rocking deeper, so the force of it presses his own breath out of him in gasps.

Creeds tries to ask for permission to move again, but even he’s not sure what garbled syllables make it out of his mouth. He thinks he manages some mixture of (please) and (Percy). Perce chuckles, a quiver of breath, and Creeds can feel that too in how Perce’s body moves. (Yes, you can move now, start steady.)

Creeds tries, does his best to move in even thrusts instead of just shuddering to pieces, and mostly he fails, and Perce grins and gasps and rides him through it all and tells him he’s amazing. He steadies himself with his broad hands on Credence’s ribs and clenches around him until he drags Credence’s orgasm out of him. He lets out a long, high, breathy wail, his toes curling, his spine bowing so hard Percival falls forward on top of him. Creeds feels like he’s going to tear apart, like the opposite of the obscurus, ecstasy slamming him further into his own body and that moment. He can’t even be embarrassed, doesn’t have enough space in his brain for anything but the feel of his knot swelling inside the molton heat of Percival’s body.

Perce echoes his moan and slithers a hand between their stomachs to grasp himself, thrusting into his hand and back on Credence’s cock. He can’t move much around the knot but what movement he gets is enough to make Creeds cry out. Perce smells like ozone and Credence feels like he’s been struck by lightning. Perce sucks a wet open-mouthed kiss over the gland on Credence’s throat. With his mouth there, his moan feels like Credence’s own voice as he comes between their bodies. His praises are like a blessing, like a healing spell to be whispered instead of sung.

(So good, Creeds, so good, you feel amazing, you sound amazing, thank you, Creeds, Credence.)

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posting from tumblr since they're purging erotic visual content and I have no trust in their sorting methods. Originally written March 2018. Also I promise I'm still working on the main fic for Chicago Teeth, I've just been subsumed by school work and the next chronological chapter involves a lot of plot. 
> 
> Feel free to come yell at me on tumblr about weird plot bunnies and the dramatics of the purge @tiny-trashcan


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